Resolution Update 2

I have completed another full month of at least 500 words per day, finishing February with 22,503 words. That gives me 47,438 for 2006, or 26% of my goal (even though only 16% of the year has passed). I also matched January's daily average word count with an average of 804. At this rate, I will reach 182,500 words on August 15.

Politics and labels, a la Scalzi

Check out John Scalzi's post about, among other things, the specious descriptors we apply to ourselves and our politicians. The best part is the paragraph that begins, "As it stands..." You'll have to scroll down past the interesting bits about the New Oxford American Dictionary.

Further Proof

Not only are women smarter than you and fully capable of kicking your ass, they can also blast you to smithereens with attack helicopters. Again, you've been warned.

Now playing: Ella Fitzgerald, The Cole Porter Songbook, Vol. 1

Why God made accountants

H&R Block gets its own taxes wrong.

Now playing: Superman soundtrack, John Williams.
Now reading: The Carpet Makers

Return of the Native

Check out John Fay's piece in the Cincinnati Enquirer about Japanese baseball hero Tuffy Rhodes' return to the U.S. and--potentially--to his hometown Cincinnati Reds. You don't remember, but Rhodes is the guy who tied Saduhara Oh's Japanese single-season home run record--only because the team Oh managed, the Daiei Hawks, refused to pitch to him in the final games of the 2001 season. And yes, I did know that before I read John Fay's article.

Now playing: Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone soundtrack, John Williams

DEATHMATCH III: John League vs. Dan Brown

Thoughts on The Da Vinci Code

The last thing the world needs in another reasonably literate and discerning person to pen yet another screed against Dan Brown and his excesses. For this very reason I had resolved NOT to read The Da Vinci Code, which had been almost universally damned to me. But I wondered several weeks ago about the book's enduring popularity, and so I picked up a copy last week at the library. It goes without saying that upon further review, The Da Vinci Code is a bad book.

Whatever one thinks of the cardboard characters, the specious romantic hook-up at the end or the infuriating cliffhanger ending to EVERY chapter, those factors do not make The Da Vinci Code a bad book. They make it a mediocre book, of which there are many--especially among similarly paced and plotted thrillers.

The Da Vinci Code is bad for four reasons.
1. Dan Brown gets history wrong. I am all for playing fast and loose with historical facts. In When Christ And His Saints Slept, Sharon Kay Penman invents a bastard son of Henry I from whole cloth to serve as a witness to the events of the story. In The Last Kingdom and The Pale Horseman, Bernard Cornwell alters the historically established timeline of Alfred the Great's reign in order to make his story a more elegant and linear tale.

But Dan Brown makes no attempt to adapt or smooth or otherwise tailor history to suit his needs: he simply makes it up. The Dead Sea Scrolls are NOT early Christian documents. Constantine did not order the Council of Nicaea. Regardless of what one thinks of the theological implications of Brown's fictive assertions, these are facts that he got WRONG.

2. You could drive a truck through the holes in the plot. In a mystery or a puzzle story, as Damon Knight so eloquently explains, one need not understand the motivations or machinations of the main characters so long as one can eventually comprehend such actions of the other characters, the ones who drive the story. Here, not so much. How did Teabing find out about what the Vatican planned for Opus Dei? What ever happened with the guy at the Swiss bank? After going to such extremes, Silas and Bishop Aringarosa just give up? As such...

3. The only character with a believable emotional investment in the story is the bad guy. Brown's one shining moment of characterization is when the bad guy is revealed. Of all the astounding lengths to which the various characters go to achieve their ends, only the bad guy's is truly believable. And consequently, he is the only character the reader has any reason to root for, depraved as he is.

4. Brown goes overboard making his case for the divine feminine. According to Dan Brown, women and men held equal footing before the time of Christ. The sacred halves of the universe, male and female, were celebrated and honored equally. It wasn't until the Apostles Peter and Paul tried to get rid of Mary Magdalene (sorry, couldn't resist the whole Peter, Paul & Mary angle) that the divinity of women was called into question. Hmmm... Right. Women had it great before Constantine sided with the misogynists of the world. No oppression in ancient cultures. No treating women like property. Nope. Everything was hunky-dory because women were equal to men. Uh huh.

All that said, I think The Da Vinci Code will make a good movie. First, the movie will have Ian McKellen in it. Second, Dan Brown's ham-handed exposition can't be realized in a movie. I am actually looking forward to it. (Besides, anything that upsets fundamentalist Christians as much as The Da Vinci Code has can't be all bad.)

Going digital

I love books. Not just the stories and words, but the physical books themselves. That said, it is hard to argue against the portability and space-saving qualities of digital books. Check out Business Week's review of emerging trends in how we read books.

Sports gluttony

Jeff Weaver: too much money for an inconsistent pitcher (or rather, a consistently mediocre pitcher)

The Reds: too many pitchers, too many outfielders

Olympic ice dancers: too much makeup (men and women)


Now reading: Queen of Scots; The Carpet Makers, Andreas Eschbach; Tales from Earthsea; The Da Vinci Code (more on that later)

Bourbon: A Visual Guide to Usage

After stumbling over correct usage of this term today at work, I provide this guide as a public service.

This is a Bourbon.













Which was pronounced by my 10th-grade world history teacher as "bore-bone," which is also this guy.












This is bourbon, which is a kind of whiskey.












This is whiskey, but it is not bourbon.

First-Line Confession

I notice that Sarah Monette and Elizabeth Bear engage in similar self-flagellation on a regular basis, so I thought I might give it a whirl. Below you will find a list of all the short-fiction currently on my plate with each story's first line, categorized by its level of completion or polish. The goal here is to move as many stories from the bottom category to the top and to confess such progress publicly as a way of putting my feet to the fire.

In or Ready For Circulation
"Classroom Management"--You could beat children then.

In Revision
"Eleora in the Dragon Den"--The ironbound door rattled in place as Eleora's shoulder slammed against it again, but it did not yield.
"Zygotes"--Bruce shifted from side to side in his seat, trying to relieve the pressure that his egg was putting on his stomach without drawing attention from the judge or opposing counsel.

In Progress
"Voice of the Goddess"--She looked nothing like she did in the glossy posters I had plastered all over Cincinnati.
"The King's Blessings"--Eric Eagle-Eye, King of Haiwalinden, Scourge of the Kings of the Seven Plains, the Just, the Righeous, the Fair Sword and Saint of the Harvest, vomited behind the rose bushes outside the chapel.
"Killer Interviews"--'Unfortunately Ed has a case of walking pneumonia, and he's booked solid for the next six months with company events, so he won't be able to help you this time.'
"Proxy Fight"--Beth and Jennifer cooked up their families' merger over lunch.

Valentine's Gems

First, there's the Washington Post with an amusing piece on Valentine's cheaters and the detectives who make a living off them. Then there's the Post on Lloyd Dobler. And finally, the Reds sign Adam Dunn to a two-year contract (with a team option for a third year).

Now playing: On the Wild Side, John La Barbera

Thoughts on Walk The Line

When we talk about the first person to act in a particular role we say he or she “created” that role. While not entirely accurate (hello, remember the writer?), “created” is as fair a word that one can find to express what an actor brings to a story. Imagine what Silence of the Lambs would have been like without Anthony Hopkins. Or The Lion in Winter without Katharine Hepburn. Can’t do it, can you?

How then do we appraise the “creation” of dramatic roles that are based on real people with actions and words recorded in recent memory? Is it a matter of mimicry? Joaquin Phoenix and Reese Witherspoon would win Oscars easily on that score. They both have the distinctive traits and mannerisms down cold, from the way Johnny Cash often held his guitar like a rifle to the particular way June Carter drawled vowels like those in “Wildwood Flower.”

The only way to judge such performances is, as with all acting, to gauge how often you are aware that these people are not who they are portraying. The challenge here is greater, especially when judged by fans who are intimately familiar with the comings, goings and appearances of such well-known figures as Johnny Cash and June Carter (or in last year’s case, Ray Charles). On this front, Phoenix and Witherspoon are impressive. From Cash’s bouts with rage and desperation to Carter’s quiet (and often not-all-that quiet) suffering and righteous indignation, their performances are genuine beyond mere copycats.

Highly recommended (Besides, how can you dislike a movie with this soundtrack?)

And a prediction: I’ve not seen any of the other nominees’ performances, but Reese Witherspoon will win the Oscar for Best Actress going away. Phoenix is good, but competition is too stiff.

I told you so

Back in December, I worried that Jim Bowden would do the same dumb things to the Nationals that he had done to the Reds. His first year went well enough, but then he traded for Alfonso Soriano even though the Nationals still have Jose Vidro. Now, he's signed Brandon Larson to a minor league contract. Now I know that this is a very low-risk move for Bowden and the Nationals, but I think Larson has proven what he brings to the table (strikeouts and ham-handed fielding) and what he doesn't (the consistent power he showed in the minor leagues). This is going to get worse, much worse, before it gets better. Please, oh ye gods of baseball, please put a sock in Linda Cropp's mouth so the Nationals can get an owner in here to fire Jim Bowden.

Now playing: "A View to a Kill," Duran Duran.
Now reading: Tales from Earthsea; Reading the Bible Again for the First Time, Marcus Borg.

My money where my mouth is

I love the Fairfax library. Having grown up in a small town in Kentucky, the library I knew as a child had limitations. Its offerings managed to have signifcant breadth--especially among young-adult literature, as I recall--but it was for all that still a local library in a small town in Kentucky. The Fairfax library, by comparison, is like a bibliophile's wet dream. Enough said (perhaps too much).

Over the past two years, I have curtailed my book purchases by about 90%. Now when I want to read something, nine times out of 10, I go to the library and borrow it. I like this. It is certainly less expensive, and I find that I can be a bit more adventurous in my reading choices because I don't worry if I will like a book so much. If I don't, I can always take it back.

Then there are the books that I get at the library that knock me out--that I then must return to the library. It's like watching a friend go away. Well, it's like that sometimes. It has been like that for me with Scott Westerfeld's Midnighters books. So I have developed a new mental classification for books: Books Good Enough To Buy. In the coming weeks I plan to troll through my reading lists and my own personal library and see what books are good enough to read and what books are good enough to own--and which ones I would not buy again if I could help it (I'm thinking Robert Jordan here).

Scoop

UPDATE 2: Read Hal McCoy's mea culpa.

UPDATE: Scooped! Looks like Hal was wrong. The Reds have hired Wayne Krivsky of the Twins. Ouch, Hal. You made us both look bad.

There's a reason that Hal McCoy is in the Baseball Writers Hall of Fame. As all of the Cincinnati papers are reporting this morning that the Reds are close to naming a new general manager (and will do so by Friday), McCoy, who writes for the Dayton Daily News, prints that the Reds will hire Jim Beattie, formerly GM with the Expos and Orioles.

Now McCoy could be wrong, but in the years that I have read his columns, this would be the first time his sources have erred so egregiously. McCoy is also the writer who told doubtful readers during last year's spring training that if Ken Griffey, Jr. did not hit 30 home runs in 2005 that McCoy would eat a copy of his column with mustard. Naysayers stocked up on French's, but Griffey hit #30 in Washington on August 24--a game which I was privileged to see. After the game as the reporters waited outside the clubhouse to interview players, Griffey came by and handed McCoy the home run ball, which he had autographed.

Home field advantage

UofL's 2006 football schedule is out. It looks both tougher than last year (games against teams from the ACC--Miami--and Big 12--Kansas State) and easier (Middle Tennessee State, anyone?). The real kicker though is that the toughest games, vs. Kentucky, Miami and West Virginia, are all at home. The road challenges come at K. State (never underestimate Big 12 schools--well, except Baylor) and Syracuse (because of the sonic-boom generator they call the Carrier Dome). I can accept losses in any of those five games: it would suck, but intellectually I can fathom losses in those five games. I cannot accept another loss to South Florida--SO SHOW UP TO PLAY ON NOVEMBER 18! YOU'RE NOT GETTING A FREE EDUCATION SO YOU CAN LOSE TO SOUTH FLORIDA!

Conclusive Proof

Not only are women smarter and longer-lived than men, but here is evidence that they can indeed kick your ass. You've been warned.

Now reading: Midnighters #2: Touching Darkness, Scott Westerfeld; Tales from Earthsea, Ursula Le Guin.

Rolling Stones gather moss

Whatever you think about the Rolling Stones' music, you must concede that men who look like they're in AARP, wear tight clothing and gyrate to music are unbecoming.